Detention
by Appointment
Summary: The long, arduous and painfully boring detention block Momo had expected was something else entirely. – AizenHina. Not for HitsuHina lovers (unless you're daring). ONESHOT.


detention.

* * *

Momo waited quietly outside of the detention hall, head hanging in some mixture of ignominy, boredom and exhaustion. She sighed, realizing it was only a matter of time before Mr. Ichimaru became sick of her lack of attention paid in class and sent her off to the detention hall after class. She curled up tighter in her chair, hugging her messenger bag close to her. _Someone's left a window open_, she thought, left shivering from the cool November draft. She waited a little longer, uncomfortable in the wooden chair before standing to knock on the door. Toshiro was back in town on his winter break and they had made dinner plans. She hadn't seen him in _months_, and had no time to waste over late detention for texting in class. When there was no answer, she tried the doorknob.

It was open.

Momo cursed to herself, knowing she probably should've tried the knob from the very beginning. As she entered the classroom, a gust of warm, artificially heated air wrapped around her like a knit blanket. She found herself a spot in the back of the classroom, closest to the radiator and furthest from the frost-covered window. The classroom was dim, aside from a lamp placed on the teacher's desk that had been switched on. She placed her bag on the floor beneath her feet, and buried her face in crossed arms, ready to sleep away detention. Silence, for what felt like hours, greeted her affectionately.

Suddenly, she heard the door creak open and close, in one swift motion.

"Well, what do we have here?" cooed a familiar voice.

Momo felt her head rise without command, as if she were a puppet on a set of strings. Her eyes locked onto those hidden behind square frame glasses, warm and buttery like melting chocolate. Mr. Aizen had a particularly unimpressed look on his face, brows furrowed.

"Miss Hinamori, in trouble? What a shame. It seems you never change," he sighed, going to lean on the island counter in front of the whiteboard. "Please move up front, Momo. From what Ichimaru has passed on to me, it seems you have a little problem with paying attention in class. I can attest second to that."

Momo complied, feeling tense. She picked up her bag and moved to a desk, center stage and near his desk. He smiled at her briefly, before leaving her to her own devices, and sitting back in his chair with a book.

"Please find something to work on, Momo. Perhaps an overdue assignment from Ichimaru's class?" he said, without looking up from his book. He didn't pass her a second glance after that.

Momo pulled a notebook from her bag and began scribbling nonsense on it, doodles. When she looked up at the clock again, a half-hour passed. She sighed quietly to herself and continued to scrawl on her papers. Mid-scribble, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She looked up – Aizen was still fully absorbed in his novel, his soft bangs falling over the tops of his glasses. She pulled her phone out of her pocket stealthily, and unlocked the screen.

_Toshiro Hitsugaya – What time tonight are you coming over? _

_Six-ish? Whenever I'm done detention… :(_

_Sent.  
_  
She kept the phone hidden under the desk, backlight shining into a board of wood, kept discreet from Aizen's eyes. She slid the phone in between her inner thighs quickly as her text sent, and began 'working' on her papers again. Aizen closed his book suddenly, causing Momo to jump. She watched him carefully as he picked up what appeared to be an empty mug from his desk, stand, and exit the classroom. Her phone vibrated again, and with Aizen gone, she took the opportunity to text Toshiro back freely.

_Toshiro Hitsugaya – I'll be waiting. :)_ _Miss you. _

_I should be out of here pretty quickly. See you soon!_

_Sent.  
_  
Momo was so lost and dreamy over the prospect of finally getting to see her boyfriend that she had hardly noticed Aizen re-enter the classroom. She felt a presence behind her, but before she could hide her phone again, his face had appeared right beside hers. His gentle eyes bored into her.

"Oh, Miss Hinamori. Always the same," he said, plucking the phone from her hands ever so adroitly, leaving her fingers clutching onto nothing. "Texting someone, are we?"

Aizen walked off, his indulgent hands playing with the phone before placing it on his desk, where he leaned against the corner.

Momo remained petrified.

"Who was so high in priority that you felt the need to text in my detention block?"

She precipitously went from unmoving, to quite skittish, like a melting ice carving.

"Oh – n-nobody."

"You realize that I could very easily just check the messages on your phone," he said, in his saccharine, velvety voice, "Or you could retain your poise and simply tell me."

Momo vacillated – no, no, no; she didn't want him to read those messages.

He opened up the desk drawer and tossed the phone inside with the nonchalance of trash in a wastebasket. He walked up to the desk with such grace, it was like he levitated.

He leaned down towards her, his face only inches away. Momo shuddered, looking anywhere but into his eyes. With his eyes fixated on her lips, he tilted her chin up with a few fingers and made her look at him.

"Was it your boyfriend?" he asked gently. "That _Hitsugaya_? Was that his name?"

Momo felt the heat rising to her cheeks. She tried to clear her throat.

"N-no, of course not," she said, unable to breathe.

He smirked.

"No, that wouldn't make any sense," he murmured, "Because it seemed you were just as, if not more distracted, when I was your teacher. Am I wrong, Momo?"

Her cheeks were stained pink as she stayed quiet.

"Please, tell me why that is?" he asked, desire bubbling to the surface of his voice. He brushed his lips against hers for just a second. He chuckled quietly. "Is it because you were _ogling_ me all the time?"

He didn't wait for her to answer before leaning in and kissing her passionately. Momo felt possessed; an unseen force taking her hands and running them through Aizen's dark hair without hesitation.

The long, dreadfully mind-numbing detention Momo had awaited became an ardent, _desk-squeaking_, _sweaty_ detention.

Needless to say, she was late to meet her boyfriend that night.


End file.
